


The Bitch Queen

by TheZev



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Submission, Topping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZev/pseuds/TheZev
Summary: Usually, Scott is a very giving lover and Emma is happy to take. But what happens when what she wants from him is the dominion she knows he's holding back?
Relationships: Elizabeth Braddock/Emma Frost/Madelyne Pryor/Scott Summers, Elizabeth Braddock/Emma Frost/Scott Summers, Emma Frost/Scott Summers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Claiming the Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121970) by [MayorHaggar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorHaggar/pseuds/MayorHaggar). 



“What would the rest of the X-Men think if they could see their leader right now, I wonder?”  
  
Emma smirked as she slowly walked towards the bed in her thigh-high boots. They completed the all-white ensemble. Tonight she wasn’t merely Emma Frost, headmistress of the Xavier Institute. Tonight she had gone full White Queen, in attitude as well as in appearance.  
  
“The guys would probably be jealous, I think, considering what you’re wearing.” Scott didn’t look bothered by her taking her usual dominant tone in the bedroom. He relaxed on the bed with his hands behind his head, clad in only his boxers while his eyes tracked her approach. Emma smiled and paused to strike a seductive pose.  
  
“You’re definitely right about that,” she agreed, putting her hands on her hips and arching her back to draw even more attention to her large breasts than they would already receive any time she wore this tight corset. “But what would they think when they saw me so thoroughly dominate you?”  
  
Scott said nothing to that; he was too busy staring at her cleavage that threatened to spill out of her tiny corset, not to mention the white panties that served as her bottoms. Her corset was a wonder of engineering, straining to contain her ample bust, then it sloped down elegantly to her midsection, wrapped around her abdomen with skintight pressure, no slackness from also having to contain her enormous breasts. And all while looking as comfortable as a warm bath.

Speaking of those bottoms and the pert buttocks that they delved between rather than attempt to constrain, she turned and bent over in such a way that her panty-clad ass was right in his face while she took off her boots. They would have taken some time to remove anyway, but she made sure to milk it for as long as possible, giving Scott ample opportunity to both fantasize about her ass and act on his desires..  
  
She wouldn’t have objected if he’d reached out and smacked her ass while she was bent over, but no spank came. Instead he was on the bed and waiting for her when she turned back around. Emma climbed onto the bed and straddled his lap. She ran her gloved hands across his bare chest.  
  
“Look at you, Scott. Doesn’t it embarrass you, being so submissive like this? Aren’t you supposed to be a big, strong man?” She rocked her hips back and forth, grinding her panty-clad crotch across the bulge in his boxers.  
  
“I’m a man who has no problem letting his sexy girlfriend rub her half-naked body against him,” he said, not rising to the bait except at his groin.  
  
“Hmph. Not a very manly attitude, is it?” It was nothing new from him. While Scott was a very capable and brave fighter, she’d quickly found him to be a rather submissive lover. That didn’t necessarily bother her most of the time. She was a confident, powerful woman, and she had no problem showing it. Getting on top of a powerful man like Scott and having her way with him was great fun, really it was.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t welcome a little more aggression from him in the bedroom—to see him be as much of a control freak and commander in bed as he was on the battlefield. It turned her on to think of him demanding the same obedience from her, here, as he did from his team out there.

More than that, Emma wanted to see what he would do if she got him really riled up. Could she tease him and taunt him to the point that he would finally have enough and show a more dominant side of himself, or was this all there was? She didn’t know, but she was determined to find out tonight.  
  
She rocked her hips against him some more, long past the point that he was fully hard. She kept going for so long that he shot her an annoyed look. Of course she knew what he wanted, but she was hoping he would take it for himself.  
  
“Is something the matter, Scott?” Emma asked innocently. She rotated her hips, moving in a slow circle and rubbing herself against him through their underwear. “You look like there’s something you need. What is it? You can tell me.”  
  
“You know what I need, you damn tease,” he said, biting his lip. She laughed and threw her long blonde hair back, sending a ripple through her abundant cleavage. With Scott’s ruby quartz sunglasses, it was impossible to tell what he looked at, but she knew that was where his eyes went.  
  
“A tease, am I?” she asked. “How am I supposed to know what you want if you won’t ask me for it? Or you could simply try and take it, of course, but apparently you don’t have the… _balls_ for that.”  
  
“I want you to take my cock out,” he bit out. She smirked at him and stopped dry humping him at last.  
  
“There, was that so hard? All you had to do was ask.” She scooted down his body, yanked his boxers off and tossed them aside without a care. He relaxed against the bed as she pulled her gloves off one by one. Clearly he was expecting that she was going to take good care of him now. He was mistaken.  
  
Emma proceeded to tease her boyfriend like she never had before. She did all sorts of things that felt nice for him, like slowly stroking his cock in her hand, pressing it against her cheek and rubbing it against the smooth skin of her face, and licking and kissing around the head. But she never did what she knew he really wanted from her, which was to part her pouty lips, take him into her mouth, and suck his cock.

Normally she would do it; she _liked_ doing it even. But not tonight. Tonight was about pressing his buttons and seeing what would happen if she played with him to the point that he let go, whatever his version of letting go might look like. She didn’t want Scott to go along to get along anymore. She wanted to know exactly what he wanted from her and for him to take it.  
  
“Dammit, Emma,” he growled. “How long are you going to keep this up?”  
  
“You’re the one keeping it up. I took all that throbbing as approval,” she said. She squeezed his balls with one hand and rubbed the thumb of the other across his glans, but that was as far as she went. “If you want something, maybe you should stop being so lazy and actually take it.”  
  
Scott glared down at her. He was going from frustration to anger, which was perfect. She was pushing him farther than she’d ever pushed him before. Her teasing was working.

“C’mon, Scott,” she said. “I can tell how badly you want it. Why don’t you stop waiting for me to give you what you want? You’re a strong man, aren’t you? Everyone here looks to you to lead them. They see strength in you. Are they wrong? Can you not even put your teasing girlfriend in her place and take what you want from her?” Emma nuzzled her face against his cock and gave it a little lick. “I know what the problem is, why you’re so passive. Jean Grey. Till death don’t you part.”

Scott stiffened. He was beyond anger now, the cockteasing now a petty annoyance next to this raw nerve she was touching. Emma had been too cynical to hope that raw nerve had finally healed, but she was still disappointed how easy it was to manipulate him. He was so strong-willed, so commanding otherwise. Jean’s memory was just another way he was submissive.

“Were you aggressive with Jean? Did you pursue her? That’s why you’re so passive with me. You let me do everything so you can pretend this entire relationship is something I’m doing _to you._ And you’re still faithful to Jean. What do I have to do to get that kind of loyalty, Scott? Dye my hair? Wear atrocious combinations of yellow and green? Make goo-goo eyes at Wolver _mmmmppph!_ ”  
  
Emma was cut off abruptly when Scott grabbed her by the back of the head and shoved his cock into her open mouth. She stared up at him with wide eyes.  
  
“I’ve heard enough out of you,” he said. “You wanna see me take control? I was in control, bitch. Now I’ll show you out of control.”

Far from being upset about the insult, she was excited by it. This was what she’d been trying to get out of him, in one way or another. Him laying claim on her. He didn’t have Jean anymore, so if she was his, then Scott was just as much hers.

  
She had sucked his cock before, but this was no blowjob. He was fucking her face. Scott held her by the hair and pulled her head up and down roughly, forcing her to take his cock all the way into her mouth and down her throat. She put her hands on his legs and allowed him to use her.

Even though it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to go through, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t getting off on it. Most women would think she was crazy for finding any level of enjoyment in having a man yank her mouth up and down his cock so roughly and so deeply that she struggled to keep up. She gagged around his length and her eyes teared up, but yes, there was definitely a thrilling element to this for her. She was a strong woman and she enjoyed proving it by dominating her lovers, but she loved to prove how much she could take too.  
  
On and on he went, tugging on her hair and thrusting his hips up off of the bed to make her take his cock deep down her throat. He could have kept using her just like this until he came and she wouldn’t have resisted or complained, but he had other ideas. He let go of her hair and allowed her to pull her mouth off of his cock. She came up panting and gasping for breath.  
  
“You alright there, your highness?” he asked sarcastically, smirking at her while she struggled to catch her breath. “You’re looking a little flustered. Do you think you’ve taken more than Jean could, or less?”

Emma didn’t react to the mention of Jean. She was looking to get fucked, not to start a fight. But now that she’d had a taste of Scott’s fury, she wanted more.

“I’m so used to your self-doubt, Scott, that I didn’t know you could be so confident as to think being throated would overwhelm me.” She was pleased with how haughty and dismissive she managed to sound even with a hoarse, breathless voice. “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want me to be your bitch.”  
  
“You’re already my bitch,” he said. “Let me show you.”

That was all the warning she got before he yanked her panties off, picked her up and scooted over so he could sit down on the edge of the bed. That wasn’t where she wound up though. He put her down on the floor on her back, almost folding her up so her ass pressed against the bed and her legs were on his shoulders once he leaned down in his seated position, putting his clenched fists on the ground beside her and brought his face between her legs.  
  
Of all the men who she’d dared to try and dominate her in the bedroom before (most of them unsuccessfully), not a single one had ever attempted to do so by eating her out. Most people thought of that as a rather subservient act for the male to perform for his partner, and Emma had always been in that camp. That all changed once Scott put her down on the floor and began to lick her though.

There was nothing submissive about the way he’d nonchalantly pulled her underwear off and put her on the ground, nor about the way he dove in and treated her to aggressive swipes of his tongue. This wasn’t a slow and relaxed cunnilingus of the romantic sort that he had given her in the past, where he took his time and built her up to a drawn-out climax. This time Scott wasn’t worshipping her pussy, treating her like his queen. His licks and kisses were hot and demanding. He was going to make her come, and come fast, whether she wanted to or not. He wasn’t pleasing her body; he was claiming it.  
  
Emma wasn’t in control of anything that was happening any more. She was merely a passenger along for the ride, and she could do nothing other than squeeze her breasts, play with her nipples, and moan as he got her off in near record time. Just as she approached her climax and her eyes closed, Emma truly losing herself in the sex, Scott slapped her hands away from her tits. The blow caught her erect nipples, sending a pained jolt through Emma with the heat of a shot of whiskey.

“Those tits belong to me,” Scott hissed. “I didn’t say you could touch them.”

Annoyance brought Emma back to herself with flustered speed. She was painfully aroused, but almost able to ignore it. “You think you own me?”

“It’s in the name, isn’t it? White Queen? And I’m your king.”

“You really have more of an ego than I gave you credit for.”

“And you have less, seeing as you’re about to start begging for me to make you come.”

Emma scowled. Sometimes she hated how well Scott knew her—enough to tell her innermost thoughts without a jot of psychic ability. But he took mercy on her. Or at least, it amused him more to take her clit into his mouth than to work through making her plead with him for an orgasm.

Her legs trembled on his shoulders and she screamed when she felt the orgasm take her. He kept licking at her clit and keeping the pressure on throughout her climax, prolonging her pleasure. Even when he relented it was only so he could push her shoulders off of his legs, straighten up and stand from the bed. She instinctively scooted away from the bed slightly, making room for him.

Without so much as a word, he grabbed her corset and ripped it at the middle. She sputtered in shock. It wasn’t like it was overly expensive, or she didn’t have more; it was just the sheer audacity of it that stunned her. Scott Summers had been the kindest and most considerate lover she’d ever had. Was he really capable of turning into some beast that ripped her clothes without a care?  
  
She didn’t get any time to protest his action, or even question him. He rolled her over onto her stomach, got on top of her and shoved his big cock inside of her in one fell swoop. Emma gasped at the surprisingly forceful intrusion, but that was the only clear sound she got to make before he put his hand on the back of her head and pressed her face against the tile floor.  
  
“You’re not getting even a moment’s rest,” he said. His hips were already thumping against her plump ass as he drove his cock deep inside of her. “I love you. That’s why I won’t make you beg. I’ll just give you what you’ve been asking for since you put on that slutty outfit. And obviously, you weren’t asking for just one orgasm, so I’ll have to fuck you and keep fucking you until you beg me to stop. Because as much as I love you, I think I’ll love you begging for mercy just a little bit more.”

Did that mean this rough pounding on the floor wasn’t going to be the end of it? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, or what to make of any of this right now. She’d been teasing him from the start, deliberately trying to get him to show some dominance in the bedroom, but she was unprepared for just how intense that was going to look and feel. It was difficult to fathom that her normally sweet and attentive boyfriend was the same beast who was currently pressing her face into the tile and slamming his hips against her with such force. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it right now.  
  
“You have a great ass, Emma,” he said. He paused in his thrusting long enough to give said ass a few hard swats with his hand, and then he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “I bet you like being spanked, huh? You were probably just dying for me to spank you when you bent over and stuck your ass in my face earlier. Good thing you’re a queen, Emma. Queens get what they want. At least when what they want is to be treated like a slut.”

She could say nothing to that, primarily because it was true. He let go of her hair and got back to fucking her. He didn’t actively press her face into the tile this time, but she kept it there on her own—the cool wood offered her some relief from the heat of the fucking. Her mind was still reeling, trying to figure out what the hell she’d unleashed when she teased Scott Summers into action.  
  
While she did occasionally encourage a lover to show some fire, she had never been on the receiving end of such utter dominance as she was right now. It was hard to believe Scott was capable of such things, and equally hard to believe how much she was getting off on it. Submission was usually a simple game for her, a way to indulge in some fun fantasies before inevitably reminding her lover of her own power, reminding them that they had only dominated her because she allowed it.  
  
Being topped by Scott was different though. He was showing her his power, and it was no act. This wasn’t a role he was playing. The caring lover he showed her most of the time, _that_ was the façade. _This_ was who he truly was and what he was truly capable of. If he wanted to dominate her, he could and he would. She wasn’t expecting him to be so capable, and also wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as she was.  
  
She enjoyed the dominance, enjoyed how roughly Scott was treating her, and loved feeling his cock pounding in and out of her. She also loved the dirty talk, which Scott either picked up on or continued simply because he himself was getting a kick out of it.

Scott pulled out of her suddenly and Emma heard the shucking sound of him stroking his own cock. It made her feel like crying out in agony. He wasn’t going to get himself off without her, was he? Come on her in the middle of their fuck? That would be enough to send her crying back to him being the sweet, submissive lover she had known.

But instead, Scott slapped his hand against her cheek, the hand he’d been masturbating with, inundating her skin with his musk and precum and the warm juices of her own cunt. Then he shoved her face back down into the floor, grinding her wet cheek into it, making the slime he’d tainted her with soak into her skin. Emma felt marked by him. Claimed, even before he jammed his prick back inside her. And as the pleasure soared right back to what it had been, overwhelming her despite the break to recover her wits, Emma was desperately glad to be his.  
  
“Ready to beg for mercy yet?” he asked. “Ready to admit you’re my bitch?” She gave no response, not sure what he wanted from her or what she wanted to say. He gave her another hard spank; pain charged out of her reddened ass. “Well, it doesn’t matter whether you are or not. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand anymore. By the time I’m through with you you’re going to know that you belong to me, Emma. You’re going to realize that this is what you were made for. This is where you belong: face-down on the floor, getting fucked by my cock until you pass out. Or maybe you know it already? Maybe you’ve already accepted that you’re just a sweet place for me to stick my cock?”  
  
Amidst it all, amidst the roughness and the fucking and the spanking and especially the dirty talk, Emma reached out, grabbed an area rug, pulled it to her, bit down on it, and came for the second time that night.  
  
“Don’t even think about asking for a break,” Scott said after pulling out. “We’re nowhere near done yet.” He physically picked her up and held her on her feet, forced her to bend over the bed and took her from behind. Emma groaned, not sure whether to beg for mercy or plead for more.  
  
***  
  
“ _Again?_ How many orgasms is that for you now?”  
  
“Ughh,” was all the answer Emma could give. It was at least her fourth of the night that she could remember, but had there been more? She’d lost the ability to keep track ages ago; the last little while had blended together into some kind of hazy, blissful out of body experience that floated from one orgasm to the next.

He’d seemingly fucked in every corner and on every surface of this room. After bending her over the bed and taking her from behind he’d picked her up, pinned her against the wall and slammed into her hard enough that the banging they produced undoubtedly had to be heard by whoever happened to be in the next room over at the time. Like Scott had wanted to show the whole mansion that she was his and not just Emma.  
  
On and on he went, taking her around the room and positioning her body however he pleased. At one point he sat down on a chair and put her on top of him, but even then it was him in control, his hands on her ass holding her in place while his hips thrust into her from below. That was still as close as she ever came to a position of dominance for the rest of the night though. Scott had taken her from there and fucked her against the dresser, and the door, and then he’d simply held her in the air by her ass and bounced her on his cock. He’d even opened the door and fucked her out in the hallway, in the rectangle of light coming out of their room, the exposure of their coupling to anyone who might wander by in the night making Emma come faster and harder than ever.  
  
Now he’d brought her back onto the bed, and while she did appreciate the more comfortable surface on which she was getting fucked, it wasn’t like he was suddenly taking it easy on her now. His hands were on her ankles, holding them straight up in the air while he sat on his knees and fucked her. It wasn’t the roughest or most demanding position he’d fucked her in tonight, but it didn’t need to be. He’d already proven his point beyond all doubt.  
  
“You’re my bitch now, aren’t you?” he asked. “If you weren’t before, you certainly are after that last orgasm. We both know it. You can go ahead and admit it.”  
  
“Ahhh…” she moaned. Her fingers rubbed at her clit, supplementing his big cock sliding in and out of her with another point of pleasure. She could feel her eyes on the action, taking it in along with everything else, knowing seemingly everything about her, but he did nothing to stop her. Maybe it was too much to hope for, but perhaps he was seeing that she wasn’t his bitch after all.  
  
“Ahh? Is that all you can say?” He thrust into her deeper, driving the entirety of his cock into her to the point that his balls pressed against her taint while he remained buried in her. “You never expected this, did you? You never thought I’d fuck you so hard, or that you’d like it so much.”  
  
“ _Ohhh…”_ she moaned. Then she groaned in disappointment when one of his hands left her ankle and pulled her own hand away from her clit.  
  
“I’ll make you a deal. Since a slut like you likes being fucked far too much to ever want me to stop, I’ll offer you an alternative. If you admit you’re my bitch—how much you like being my bitch—I’ll let you have one more orgasm. If you don’t, I won’t.” Let her? _Let her?!_ Who the hell did he think he was? She wanted to curse him out, remind him who she was and _demand_ that he make her cum! But that wasn’t what came out of her mouth.  
  
“You did it,” she admitted quietly. “You dominated me.”  
  
“What was that?” He started to move his hips, but far too slowly for her liking. “I couldn’t quite hear you. You’ll have to speak up.”  
  
“You dominated me,” she said again, a little louder this time.  
  
“Louder.”  
  
“You dominated me!” Now she was getting angry, but her desperation overrode even that. She needed to cum, just one more time!  
  
“Louder,” he demanded. “There might still be someone here who didn’t hear you.”  
  
“ _You dominated me!_ ” she shouted. “ _You dominated the fuck out of me! You fucked me harder than I’ve ever been fucked and I loved it, I loved being your bitch! Now keep going, you bastard! Keep going, just a little more! Let me cum one more time!_ ”  
  
“Much better,” he said. He let go of her hand, but before she could start touching herself again, he slapped her across her face. Her dirty, dirty face. “But is that how you let your bitches talk to you?”

She was so close; the slap had aroused her more. Aroused her so much she couldn’t believe she wasn’t coming already. The only thing Emma could think was that Scott didn’t want her to. That was why she couldn’t find release. Simply because he hadn’t ordered her to. “N-no—no, sir—that’s not how b-bitches get to talk.”

“Come for me, you filthy whore.”

That gave her permission to start rubbing her clit again. Scott returned to holding her legs up by the ankles and fucked her hard once again. He quickly got back into the rhythm of things, pounding in and out of her and making her scream. They’d set the pace now, figured out what would get them both off. For Emma, it was being his bitch. And for Scott, it was making her that way.

“ _Yes!_ ” She screamed at the top of her lungs, not giving a damn whether or not every single member of the X-Men could hear her. “ _Yes, fuck, YESSSS!_ ” Even though this was far from her first orgasm of the night, it was still powerful enough to rival anything she’d ever felt. She’d wanted to see what Scott would do when she pushed him, and what he’d done was rise up and give her the most intense, physically demanding night of her life. It had been so much more than she’d expected, so much better.  
  
She was still reeling from yet another toe-curling orgasm when Scott pulled his cock out of her and squatted over her head. She noticed that he was pointing his cock straight down at her face, and even in her cum-drunk state she knew what that signified. She didn’t say or do anything to try and stop it though. She welcomed it.  
  
“Here it comes,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Here’s how you know you’re my bitch.” Saying he simply marked her was probably an understatement. He unloaded a massive amount of cum all over her face, from her forehead down to her neck. It wasn’t the first facial Emma had ever taken, but it was by far the largest. She was absolutely coated in semen. His semen.  
  
“That really completes the ensemble,” he said moments later as he rubbed his cockhead against her lips. She opened her mouth and suckled at the head, cleaning him off without needing to be asked. “Sucking me clean right away. Such a good little slut,” he said with a sigh.  
  
She heard him pull away and roll off of the bed after he pulled his cock out of her mouth, and she let her eyes close. He returned a few seconds later and began to gently wipe her face with a moist towelette. Apparently he was back to his usual tender self now that he’d finished.  
  
“Was that everything you hoped it would be?” he asked, wadding up the used tissue and tossing it into the nearby trashcan.  
  
“Everything and more,” she admitted, smiling. “Just don’t forget how things really work around here. I might allow you to dominate me from time to time, but I’m still your queen.” If he was back to his usual self, it was only proper that she do the same. She couldn’t forget how he had made her feel, but she could act like it. Couldn’t she?  
  
“I won’t forget it,” he said, shrugging. “We both have good memories, don’t we Emma?”

She knew what he meant by that. He had made her submit, made her his bitch, made her love it. Emma, who had always prided herself on control, had found out definitively who was the master in their relationship. And for all her _playacting,_ it wasn’t her.

Was there a way for her to get back on top? Or was Scott the force of nature that he had appeared to be in the throes of passion, simply irresistible to any lover, even her? Either would be a desperately needed comfort, but at the moment, Emma didn’t have the energy to think about the two options. She couldn’t even deny how sincerely she’d begged and pleaded to be allowed to come, the prospect of an orgasm at his dominant hands enough to overwhelm all her pride and self-control.

She was always a queen, but for that night at least, she was his bitch too.


	2. Betsy's Bitch I

Emma Frost had something to prove. Not just to Scott, and not just to Betsy Braddock, but to herself too; maybe to herself most of all.  
  
She’d gotten what she wanted and dragged a more aggressive side out of Scott in the bedroom, but she hadn’t been prepared for just how aggressive he’d been or how she’d responded to it. In her head she was still going to be in control of everything even when she drew out the animal inside of him. More control than ever, really, because once Scott had lost himself in the sex, the frenzy, she’d be the one who’d taken control from him and held onto it herself.

That wasn’t what had happened. She had lost control of that encounter right away. As soon as she pushed Scott far enough to make him let go, he’d introduced her to a side of him that had swept her up in submission. She’d embraced being his toy—the little slut she’d play-acted for Shaw and the others, she’d become it for real with him. Embraced it, enjoyed it, and wanted even more.

It’d taken embarrassingly long for her to come to her senses. If this could be called that. Her Scott, who she loved, she now intended to loan out to another. All her zeal over pulling him away from Jean Grey, from her very memory, and now Emma would let a rival for his affections sink her teeth into him.  
  
It chafed to think about how easily she’d fallen in line and allowed Scott to truly take control of her. She prided herself on being able to hold onto control at all times, and he’d wrested it away from her far too easily. The pleasure Emma got from that incredibly intense fuck was undeniable, and she felt a tingling inside of her when she thought about it, but her wounded pride had still not recovered from how easily he’d made her submit to him. She needed to prove that she was stronger than that, or at least, stronger than others. That anyone else would have been broken and bent to his will even more readily than she had. Tonight was the night she was going to prove all of it, with the help of Scott’s ‘work wife.’

Sitting in the teacher’s lounge, which was thankfully deserted enough for a potent privacy, she fixed her eyes on Betsy. Word around both the school and the X-Men was that she was Scott’s work wife, as close to him as Emma was, only without the romance and sex that Emma enjoyed. There was an obvious attraction between them and Betsy enjoyed flustering him as much as Emma did, but it was Emma who laid claim to his affections.

Not that that stopped their mutual attraction, as Emma well knew. But Scott was hardly the sort to be lacking in self-control, and so she’d never worried about Scott’s close friendship with another woman. In fact, she appreciated the jealousy. There was an ugly side of her that took pleasure in having what another woman wanted, reaping that envy like it was a cash crop. But now, Betsy could make herself even more useful. And she’d do it simply by getting what she’d always wanted.

Tapping at her phone, Emma sent the photo to Betsy. She watched as Betsy’s phone pinged and the woman answered it, slender eyes widening to see what her screen now displayed. “Bugger me! Of all the bloody cheek, who—Emma—wait, is that…?”

As Betsy went through the storm of emotions, Emma moved in to make the kill. Betsy’s psychic defenses weren’t so good that Emma couldn’t tell she’d reacted precisely as Emma had meant her to.

First, she’d seen the photo Emma had taken earlier of Scott in the shower. As Scott had to bathe with eyes closed and sunglasses off, he hadn’t noticed, but the picture had still come out nicely. It showed Betsy everything she was missing and everything Emma was enjoying. The tall, compact body, the broad shoulders that weren’t jockish enough to imply machismo, but held definite muscles. Then the thick arms and six-pack abs that every self-respecting X-Man seemed to have. Scott pushed all of them hard to be in peak physical condition and he asked even more of himself. And finally, the pièce de résistance. No training regimen was responsible for what hung between Scott’s legs, but between Jean, Emma, and all the other beautiful women who’d dallied with him, there was no doubt he’d learned how to use his natural gift.

Naturally, Betsy had been incensed to receive an unsolicited dick pic, but then she’d realized that it wasn’t actually erect. That size was when it was flaccid, and it had still been enough to make Betsy double back on her feminist leanings. And then she’d realized who that body, and that prick, belonged to. Scott Summers. Which meant it belonged to Emma. The same person who had ‘accidentally’ sent Betsy the picture in the first place.

Emma sat down beside Betsy, hitting her along with the realization, right when the iron was hot. “Oh! Dear me. That wasn’t meant for you, Betsy, obviously. I’m terribly sorry. Please, accept my apology and delete that dreadful bit of smut.”

She reached for Betsy’s phone, to handle the deletion for her, and Betsy automatically held it out of Emma’s reach. “Hold on a tick. If you’re that leery of others seeing your man, perhaps you should take more care who you send his picture to. This could make for a valuable lesson.”

Emma gave Betsy a poker-faced smile, meant to be as unreadable as it was stunningly photogenic. She didn’t want to give away to Betsy what she was thinking. Of course, she could keep a neutral expression, but she also wanted Betsy to make certain false assumptions about what she was thinking. Emma knew how Betsy thought, after all. There were only so many thought process that led to wearing a one-piece swimsuit into battle.

“I suppose you’re right. You and Scott are so close, after all. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you having such a thing—he can trust you to be discreet. As can I.”

Betsy looked at Emma warily. “Who were you sending it to, anyway? I know you, Emma, and it’s not like you to share the wealth.”

“Oh, what a horribly classist thing to say. Multimillionaires shouldn’t fight amongst themselves, Betsy. In the end, all us snobs have is each other.”

Betsy’s purple eyes bore into Emma, seeming to grow more vivid as her gaze grew more intense. Emma was confident in her psychic defenses to keep Betsy out. And she knew that like a horse to water, Betsy’s mind would go where she wanted it to go.

As much as she loved being a telepath, manipulating someone the old-fashioned way was such a thrill.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Betsy said after a pause.

Emma bobbed her head in consideration. “Just a friend,” she demurred.

Betsy scoffed. “Some friend. If I had a man like that, I wouldn’t spread him around.”

“Oh? You wouldn’t? You don’t think there’s enough of Scott to go around?”

Betsy licked her lips. “I suppose there’s not much chance of him being spread too thin. He is rather broad—in certain places…”

“That’s not what my friend said.”

Betsy blinked. She seemed distracted now. Given to fantasies. Emma had poured gasoline on the simmering flame of her attraction to Scott and it was all Betsy could do to stem that flow and keep the fire from burning out of control. “Oh no?”

Emma’s eyes flickered to Betsy’s phone, leading Betsy’s gaze to it as well. The screen had long since gone dark to save power, but Betsy knew as well as Emma did that all she had to do was unlock it and she’d be able to see Scott again. All of him. A feast for the eyes. But that only whetted Betsy’s appetite. A hunger like hers needed more to be satisfied.

Emma sighed. Inwardly, she had to keep from laughing. It was so easy to beguile Betsy. She should’ve done it a lot sooner, just because it was so very, very uncomplicated. “Well, she seemed to think that Scott was… too much. You know. For her, at least.”

Betsy pinched her luscious lips together. “Dumb witch.”

Emma laughed. “Yes indeed. Scott is quite a lot to handle, but—as you saw—he’s worth it.”

Betsy nodded distractedly. “Indeed.”

“I had so hoped she would help me share the load, but if she’s not interested, she’s not interested.” Emma lifted her downcast eyes to Betsy’s face. She spoke so innocently it wasn’t innocent at all. “I don’t suppose you are?”

“I’m what?” Betsy mumbled. Then she shook her head, as if to rid herself of some persistent thought…

Which was the last thing Emma wanted. “Interested,” she continued. “In sharing Scott’s load.”

“Oh.” Betsy’s face colored. “I…” Her eyes danced to the phone and back again. Her thumb actually twitched for the fingerprint scanner, but didn’t actually summon up Scott’s body. How could Betsy forget it, after all? “I…”

Emma smirked at her. _Hook, line, and sinker. Eat your heart out, Mr. Summers._ That’s _how you dominate someone._ “Be at our room at ten,” she said firmly. “And wear your costume.”


End file.
